


Chocolates and Hopeless Love

by inedible_rye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellamione Coven's Valentine's Event 2021, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inedible_rye/pseuds/inedible_rye
Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Bellatrix has accidentally taken a love potion meant for someone else.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 7
Kudos: 223





	Chocolates and Hopeless Love

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! This was written for sfw prompt #13 love potion chocolates for the Bellamione coven discord event. Please enjoy.

“I hate Valentine’s Day,” Bellatrix declared, stabbing her fork into a piece of chocolate cake. “It’s a stupid holiday that was designed by greedy capitalists so that they could upcharge everything and drag in a bunch of poor innocents with their aggressive marketing schemes.”

“Aggressive marketing strategies that involve shaming anyone who doesn’t have a date. It doesn’t matter that I was asked by multiple people and turned them down. It doesn’t matter that it’s MY choice not to go on a date with someone I’ve just met. It’s still poor single Hermione this and I’m sure you’ll find someone that.”

“You never told me anyone asked you out. Who asked you out?” Bellatrix demanded.  
  
“McLaggen, of course. The bastard finds every excuse he can to ask me out. You remember the mistletoe.”  
  
Bellatrix growled.

“Also, Astoria Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Evie—“

“Well, who knew you were so bloody popular?”

“It’s just a date for Valentine's.”  
  
“Why’d you say no? I’m sure you and Astoria would get on splendidly,” malice slipped into her tone.

  
A slight heat rose in her cheeks. The answer was sitting next to her and looking absolutely adorable. She was wearing one of Hermione's sweatshirts, courtesy of a cooking accident earlier, and it was a couple of sizes too big for her. Not that she’d ever tell Bellatrix she looked adorable.

“I don’t fancy them, why would I go on a date with one of them?”  
  
“So that you’re not spending your entire Valentine's day with an old woman.”  
  
“You’re not old.”  
  
Even if she was old, which she wasn’t, she didn’t look old. Her curls defied gravity and obsidian hadn’t yet been invaded by silver. Her pale skin was as smooth as silk and shone like a sliver of moonlight. Her weight hadn’t yet caused her to stoop over so she stood straight and regal; an aristocrat among the masses of the poor.

“Besides,” she continued, “I like spending time with you.”

“I’m still not sure why.”

Because her day would be empty without hearing at least one of Bella’s morbid fun facts. Because Bella’s favorite color is yellow and she’d eat sweets for every meal if you could.

Nothing made Hermione smile more than hearing about everything everyone Bella saw that day had done wrong. Conversations about theories and books and magic didn’t satisfy her because no one could match her mind except Bella.

She couldn’t sleep without having heard Bella’s voice or her laugh, and not their performative, but the low throaty one. Her favorite thing to do was to teach Bella about muggle subjects because she got this cute look of confusion on her face and was so determined to understand she wouldn’t stop until she did.

Life was too predictable without Bellatrix in it. Without her energy or her chaos. Without her intense care for a few people, but every animal, that had caused her to show up on Hermione’s doorstep with a squirrel and more than one cat.

“Because you’re my friend.”

“I shouldn’t be. You have every reason to loathe me.”

How could she loathe someone who made her feel again? When the world had turned to black and white, Bella had brought color back into it. She’d coaxed a smile from her even as her heart broke in two. She held her as everything broke apart. She hadn’t left her alone. She had listened to every nightmare, every fear, every insecurity, without an ounce of judgment. When she’d been alone; when everyone had moved on except her, Bella had stood next to her. She’d never forced her way in; had respected every choice, every decision.

She’d sat next to Hermione in the freezing cold, because she understood the need to feel something, even if that something was pain. To be certain you were still alive, because sometimes when you were filled with numbness, you weren’t sure you were anything but a Spector, rotting among the living.  
  
She’d brought tea and scones and sat next to Hermione when she hadn’t eaten for days. She’d managed to softly coax food into her mouth to fill holes Hermione hadn’t been aware existed.

She’d cared for her and had seen the cracks that she tried so hard to hide. She’d filled them in with gold.

Bella made her laugh and held her as she cried. She’d been the reason Hermione smiled for the first time in a long time.

“I worked through that a long time ago, Bella. I don’t loathe you, I could never.”  
  


“You should. I loathe myself. For everything I’ve done, for everything I didn’t have to do but did anyway.”

“Oh, Bella.”

Hermione leaned up against Bellatrix laid her arm around one of her shoulders. Bellatrix laid her head on Hermione’s shoulder.

“You deserve your own forgiveness. You are worthy of a happy ending.”

“Why should I get a happy ending, when I stole it from so many others?”

“Because you gave it to more than you took it from. The good is what matters.”

“Whatever good I’ve done is covered in so much pain and terror, it’s hardly good anymore. Why shouldn’t I suffer for it?”

“Because you care, Bella. You may have gotten a little lost, but you always intended the best. Yes, impact is different than intent, but that doesn’t mean intent is worthless. Intent is who you are, that is what defines you, not impact. Your intent was always true.”

“Intent is worthless, everyone thinks they’re on the right side, Pet. People don’t walk around trying to be evil. Intent is individual, it’s what you do that matters.”

“And you saved us all, Bella. Nothing comes without casualty, you had more casualty because you did an indefinable amount of good.”

“Just because I did something good, doesn’t mean I’m a good person.”

“No, it doesn’t, but it means you’re not a bad one. It means you’re somewhere in the middle and that’s okay. You’re forgiven. You deserve to smile. You’re not required to hate yourself, you don’t have to feel guilty for living.”

Bellatrix let out a shaky laugh. “I’m afraid I’ve ruined your Holiday.”

“You haven’t ruined anything and I don’t care about the holiday.” I care about you.

“You’re just saying that because of your teddy bears.”

Hermione could tell when Bella wanted to change the subject. She wouldn’t push; it wouldn’t do anything, but she wouldn’t let it go either. She wouldn’t stop until Bella forgave herself. She’d do for Bellatrix what she did for her because she did deserve it, she deserved it more than anyone deserved anything.  
  
“What am I supposed to do with three human-sized teddy bears? I can’t fit them on my bed or I’ll be forced to sleep on the floor and I can’t leave them around my house. Do you know how creepy it is to walk downstairs in the middle of the night for a glass of water only to find someone sitting on your couch because you forgot you put one of your bears there? Then, because I’m a logical person and didn’t want to die, I shot a spell at it. It was all deformed after that and my house smelled awful for weeks. You want to hear the worst part? This year, they’re all from the same person. He genuinely thought I needed three giant Teddy Bears! What psychopath thinks oh wow the perfect way to court a girl is to send her three huge teddy bears?”

Bellatrix was shaking violently against her chest. She wasn’t making any sound except for the slight high inhale every now and then.

“It’s not funny! This is a genuine problem!”

“Of course it’s funny. You charred a fucking stuffed animal because you thought it was trying to kill you. Additionally, I’m sure there are many people crying because they don’t have a bear.”

“I will happily donate my bears.”  
  
“No, I need to see long it takes you to get to one hundred. Speaking of, where do you keep them?”  
  
“I— uh, they’re in my garage.”

“In your garage? You have an army of what, seventeen, stuffed bears just sitting in your garage.”

“I felt bad throwing them away; they cost money. And it’s only sixteen. I had to throw away the one I burnt last year.”

“The bear you thought was a home invader?”

“That’s the one, yes.”

“Hmm, so with these three that’s nineteen. I shall buy you one, so you can have an even twenty.”  
  
“Please don’t.”  
  
“Shhhh, I know no one will ever replace home invasion bear, but you need to try and move on.”

“You know what? I’m going to the kitchen. Our second batch of cookies should be cooled by now.” Hermione let Bellatrix push herself off of her before getting up from the couch. “Don’t eat my chocolates while I’m gone!”

“I won’t, but I make no promises for the bears.”

Hermione reached the kitchen and walked over to the cookie sheet on the counter; ignoring how cold her body felt without Bellatrix against it. She had needed to leave that couch. She’d never stopped getting lightheaded whenever Bellatrix’s entire body leaned against hers like that. It felt so natural too, how perfectly Bellatrix fit into him like they were meant to be that way.

It was too painful, to have that, to fool herself into believing something could happen between them; that Bellatrix might feel even a tiny bit of what she felt. Only to be dragged back into reality. A reality where she would never be with Bellatrix, for the simple fact Bellatrix wouldn’t ever love her.

She had tried to stop loving her, to move on, but it hadn’t worked. She wouldn’t leave her mind and in the end, Hermione would feel worse than before the dates. She’d be acutely aware that no one would ever be as perfect as Bellatrix, that no one could ever make her feel the same things.

Maybe it would’ve worked if she had managed to keep a relationship for longer than two months. But she couldn’t, it felt too much like lying to whoever she was with. She didn’t love them, they were just a replacement and a really bad one at that. All too often their face would turn to Bellatrix’s and words would come out in her voice.

It was unfair, why couldn’t she be with someone who loved her? Why couldn’t she feel so deeply for anyone else? She’d stopped even trying to date at this point, though thankfully no one mentioned how she never had any romantic life.

It was a little insulting because they were all so nosy with each other’s love life, but they didn’t care about hers. Always just a simple are you seeing anyone? She’d say no and they’d just move on. A couple of times she’d seen what looked to be galleons being exchanged, which meant that somehow her dating life had entered her friend's extensive betting ring.

Hermione finally remembered that she was supposed to be getting the cookies. She quickly touched them to make sure they weren’t too hot, they weren’t, and she loaded them onto a plate.

Bellatrix was lounging on the couch flipping through TV channels when she got back. She also had open the heart-shaped package full of chocolates that Hermione had specifically told her not to eat.

“Bella!”  
  


“What?”  
  


“I told you not to eat my chocolates.”  
  
“That doesn’t really seem fair, though. We’re sharing everything today, why not chocolates?”

“They were from Ron, he said they were special, I just wanted to eat them before they were all stolen.”  
  
“Well, there’s still— oh it appears I ate them all.”

“How did you eat so many so quickly?” Hermione walked over to Bella and set the plate down. She sat back down in her previous place on the couch.  
  
“Mmmmm, I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention to the chocolates.”

“Yes, I can see that. What are you doing?”

‘I’m in the mood for a ginger.”  
  
“You’re… in the mood for… a ginger?”  
  
“For a ginger, yes.”  
  
“Um, why?”  
  
“Ron’s a ginger.”

Huh? “You hate Ron. Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re going to try and shoot a spell at the ginger on TV, because I don’t want my TV messed up.”

“Why would I shoot someone who looks like Ron. He’s beautiful.”

“Oh, very funny, you’re absolutely hilarious.”  
  
She looked away from the TV and at Hermione for the first time. “I could never joke about Ron.”

“What, so suddenly like Ron? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you finally like my friend but—”  
  
“Like? No, no, no. I love him.”  
  
“You what?” Hermione exclaimed.

Whenever Hermione mentioned Ron, Bellatrix made a disgusted face. She also liked to remind Hermione that she thought he was an idiot, completely uncreative, dirty, and overall a pretty horrid person.

“I _love_ him,” she sighed. “He’s perfect. Everything a woman could want; his fiery red hair that matches his cute little cheeks. His sea-blue eyes. Not to mention his body, oh, Quidditch players are always very fit.”

“I- I don’t. Since when?”

She frowned. “I’m not really sure. For a long time, I think. How could you not love that adorable face? But I’ve only just realized it now.”

Hermione had expected Bellatrix to fall for someone else. To be happy and in love with someone else. There was no way she wouldn’t; she was incredible. But to move on and fall for Ron, well, that was… shocking.  
  
“Do you think he’s interested in me?” She sent Hermione a hopeful smile.

“No.”

Tears welled up in Bella’s eyes and she ducked her head. “Oh.”

Her chest tore apart. Bella’s tears were rare. She refused to be the cause of them. Even if it hurt her, she’d always put Bella’s happiness above her own. It wasn’t a question; it wasn’t something she had to decide. Seeing Bella hurt would always be worse than her own pain.  
  
“No, no, Bella. I just, I guess he doesn’t know you very much.”

“We can fix that!”  
  
“We can?”  
  
“You’re friends with him, you can take me to him.”

“He actually didn’t tell me his plans, so I can’t do that.”

Bellatrix grabbed the empty box of chocolates and hurled it at Hermione. “LIAR! You just want him all to yourself!”

Hermione rubbed the sore spot on her face before grabbing the box off of her lap. There was a faint smell coming from it. It was floral and very sweet. It was oddly familiar, yet she had no idea where it from. It definitely wasn’t from the chocolates; in fact, it probably wouldn’t have been noticeable with the chocolates in the box.

Had there been something in the chocolates? Maybe she was overreacting and letting her emotions get the better of her. Or maybe she was in denial, that was the first stage of grief, after all. But something could really be wrong. It didn’t make sense for Bella to like Ron, much less love him. And whatever was in the box could be serious. This could be a type of insanity before her impending death.

Whatever, she did, she could not Bella die. A life without Bella wouldn’t be a life at all.

But where would she take her? If this really was a reaction to a potion, Bella would kill her for letting her go out in public like this. Then she’d probably kill whoever saw her fawning over Ron. Who then? One of her sisters, probably.

And it had to be Narcissa. Andromeda might be a mediwitch, but she specialized in trauma, not potions. Narcissa knew her potions better than she knew her ex-husband. The only issue was, Hermione was pretty sure she wouldn’t be let into the house. It was Valentine’s day, and she knew Narcissa planned on celebrating.

Hermione glanced at Bellatrix, who was carving hearts with R+B written inside of them onto her coffee table. She’d have to lecture Bellatrix about defacing her furniture later; it’d happened enough times that she knew exactly how that conversation would go. Besides, she had bigger problems; she could replace her table, she couldn’t replace Bellatrix.

“Bella, you’re right, I do know where Ron is.” She actually didn’t, she hadn’t been lying earlier.

“I knew it! You—”  
  
“I’ll take you to him, but I need to go to your sister’s home first. Harry left something there when he went for tea Sunday and asked me to pick it up.”

“I would advise against interrupting my sister today; we should go straight to Ron.”

“It’s very important. Plus, if we go to your sister’s first, you can practice what you are going to say to him.”

She desperately hoped Bellatrix wouldn’t begin that planning out loud. It would be too hard to hear Bella talk about anyone else. Insanity caused or not; it’d only highlight how small of a chance she actually had to anything more than painfully close friends with Bellatrix.

Four people could apparate into Narcissa’s home without finding themselves under several curses designed to inflict as much pain as possible. Narcissa herself, her two sisters, and Draco. They could also side apparate people in; which Bella had failed to mention after telling Hermione, in detail, about her sisters blood-wards. She’d nearly had a heart attack when Bella grabbed her arm and apparated them in.

“Fine, let’s go.”

Familiar tingles raced up her hand and arm as she grabbed Bella’s forearm. Then a sickening feeling turned her stomach around and they were standing in a grandiose foyer.

The floors and ceilings were made of white marble and gold accents covered the room. There was a chandelier that held multiple candles hanging above them. Archways led off into two separate areas of the house. A curved stairway that led to an indoor balcony completed the room.

The sound of footsteps came from above and Hermione looked up to see Narcissa walking down the stairs towards them. She was wrapped in a black silk robe and had a slight frown on her face. Her blond hair was mused, but per usual, she still looked absolutely refined. Hermione was sure the woman would radiate regality dressed in a trash bag and standing in a pigsty.

“Bella, Ms. Granger. To what reason do I owe this visit?” She said, stopping a couple feet in front of them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your day, Narcissa. It’s just Bella has a slight problem.”  
  
“I do not have a problem!”  
  
“Bella, how do you feel about Ron?”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow.

“He’s amazing; the love of my life. Are we going to see him soon? You promised.”

“Just after this, Bella.”

“Oh good; I feel so empty without him.”

You don’t actually like him. You don’t feel empty without him.  
  
“Bellatrix ate some chocolates and started acting like this. The box smells off, so obviously, something happened. Especially, because, she could never like Ron, not romantically. Not ever.”  
  
Narcissa took the box Hermione handed to her. She delicately sniffed the box. “No, my sister is not in love with _Mr. Weasley._ I believe these chocolates were imbued with a love potion.” She turned once again to look at Bellatrix, who was still blabbing about Ron.

“I wonder what he smells like, maybe warm cookies and home. Or fire to match that brilliant hair of his. Oh, how soft it must be. I do hope I shall be so lucky as to run my fingers through it. To even hear the sound of his voice will be heaven.”

“Narcissa? Can you fix her?”

“Yes, of course, Ms. Granger. I am simply taking a moment to enjoy this.”

Bellatrix had begun humming can’t help falling in love. Hermione wished Narcissa would just get on with it. There wasn’t any pleasure in watching Bellatrix be so stupidly in love. She shouldn’t be like this.

“I believe I’m ready now. Jivvy!” Narcissa called as she began walking down the hallway.

There was a pop and a house-elf appeared at Narcissa’s side.”  
  
“Yes, Mistress Black?”  
  
“Please tell my guests I’m dealing with a family issue and may be awhile. They should continue on without me.”

“Of course, Mistress Black.” The elf was gone with a second pop.

“Where did you get these chocolates, Ms. Granger?”

“From Ron, actually,” Hermione started after Narcissa, Bellatrix just behind her still humming.

“That fits with my theory. The potion is likely designed to create feelings for a specific someone, in this case, Mr. Weasley, as opposed to amplifying any romantic feelings one already has.” Narcissa mumbled something under her breath.

“Sorry, what was that last part.”

“Never you mind. He gave you these when?”  
  
“I received them in the mail today.”

Narcissa opened a door and they entered a greenhouse. Plants hung from the glass ceiling hung against the walls, nearly obstructing the view to the gardens outside. The majority of the greenhouse had a floor made of dirt and here too, plants sprung up in every place. It would be nearly impossible to walk through without stepping on the plants. However, there was an organization within the chaos.

They walked over to the small area of the room with a birch floor and white stone walls. There were cauldrons of all different sizes and materials lined up in rows. Notes written in black ink and tight cursive were laid across tables. Old cabinets made out of dark wood and inlaid with precise carvings stood against the walls.  
  


Narcissa gathered ingredients from a nearby cabinet and began preparing them on one of the tables.

“Were you planning on seeing Mr. Weasley soon?”  
  
“Hermione’s taking me to see him after this, Cissy. I’m terribly nervous; I’ll have to apologize for everything I’ve said to him. Maybe if I could borrow something from your wardrobe? He might find me more appealing than I am in this ratty old sweatshirt.”

That was Hermione’s favorite sweatshirt. Her father had bought it for her when he took her to see his alma matter when she was nine. Sure it was well-worn, but that was out of love.  
  
“I don’t want you messing up the proportions when you resize everything. Why don’t you go pick an apology bouquet for him instead?”  
  
“Yes, that may work. I’m sure I can dredge up the memory of what flowers to use. Thank you, Cissy.” Bellatrix bounded away into the plants.

“Be careful of the poisonous ones, Bella!”

“Don’t worry Cissy!”

“So, as I was saying. When were you planning on seeing Mr. Weasley?”

“Six days from now; the twentieth.”

“Likely a long-lasting variant, then. Hmmmm.”

There was a loud pop and a large amount of smoke rose up from the cauldron.

“Did you do it?”  
  
“Hardly, Ms. Granger. I’ve simply confirmed that this is not amortentia. I suspected, based on the smell, or lack of what I should smell, but I felt the need to confirm.”  
  


Hermione briefly considered asking Narcissa what she smelled but decided that probably wouldn’t go over very well. They were friends, but if Narcissa wouldn’t call her Hermione, she probably wouldn’t answer that.

“Well, that’s good, that should make it easier to fix, right?”  
  
“Yes, do not worry, Bella will be back to her original self shortly.”

“And then she won’t love Ron anymore and things will go back to normal.”

“Indeed. I never need to hear anyone make another comment about Mr. Weasley’s body, especially from Bella.”

Hermione’s cheeks got slightly warm. That wasn’t an image she liked having in her head; Bella and Ron; Bella and anyone. Well, if it was her and Bella, that was certainly fine, more than fine, actually.  
  
“She has only commented on that, hasn’t she? That’s… interesting. Is it a lust potion?”  
  
“No, it’s a love potion. Her comments are about his body because her brain is searching for ways to justify what it’s now told it feels. Those justifications are from what she’s noticed about him that hasn’t been negative; the potion is too weak to make negative become positive.”  
  
“You’re saying that Bella finds Ron attractive?” Hermione thought she might throw up.

“I’m saying she’s noticed how he looks. Neutral things like he has red hair or his eyes are blue. My sister doesn’t like men.”  
  
“Oh, right, I knew that.” She had completely forgotten it in her panic over Bella’s emotions, but she knew it.

“I wasn’t sure you did.”  
  


“Hermione! Look at this bouquet, isn’t it beautiful?”  
  
Bella rushed up to her holding a bunch of flowers in one of her hands. There was a red ribbon tied around them.

“It’s very pretty.”  
  
“Do you think Ron will like it?”  
  
We won’t ever have to find out. “How could he not; when it’s from you.”

“Bella, I have a drink for you,” Narcissa scooped out part of the antidote into a glass vial. “It’ll help you seem more attractive to Mr. Weasley.”

“Thank you, Cissy,” Bellatrix grinned and walked over to Narcissa. She grabbed the vial with her empty hand and downed it all in one go.

Bellatrix started coughing and the hand with her bouquet dropped the flowers to cover her mouth.

Hermione rushed over to her side. “Bella are you ok?”

“It tasted so bad; that was the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. I don’t know what Cissy put in that drink to help me with—” She stopped abruptly and stared up at Hermione with wide eyes and horror written across her face. “What. The. Fuck.”  
  


Hermione sent her a nervous grin. “Er, welcome back?”  
  
“What the hell was that, Pet?”

  
“You ate chocolates infused with a, uh, love potion.”  
  
“A WHAT?”  
  
“A love potion, specifically one focused on Ron.”  
  
“You let me ingest a love potion? I trusted you!”  
  
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I specifically told you not to eat those chocolates.”  
  
“You could’ve told me what was in them.”  
  
“I didn't know.” Honestly, how would she figure out there was a love potion in the chocolates without eating them?

  
“Right, sure you didn’t. I can’t believe you let me walk around proclaiming my love for the weasel.” she mimed barfing. Actually, that was probably a genuine response.

“Oh, you’re overreacting. It was just a love potion, besides, I didn’t let you wander around anywhere. I took you here, to get help.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at Hermione. “Don’t you dare utter a word about this to anyone?”  
  
“I won’t; promise,” she held up hands in a sign of surrender.

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed. “You better not and if you do, remember I still have Wales.”

Hermione gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“I said I wouldn’t. Your real problem is Narcissa. She seemed to find it all very funny.”

“Yes, I’m sure my dearest sister found it all hilarious,” Bellatrix muttered darkly. “Where has she gone, by the way?”  
  
Hermione looked around and noticed that Narcissa, had indeed, disappeared somewhere off into her house.

“No clue.”

“I’ll find her tomorrow. She’s probably with her guests, she’ll be thoroughly occupied until then. Plus, interrupting her a second time is sure to make her tell the story at every party she hosts for years.”

“I doubt she’d do that.”  
  
“No, I suppose you’re right; my sister prefers to have blackmail material.”  
  
Hermione chuckled, “Exactly.”

“But really, the weasel? That is absolutely horrifying.”

“Oh trust me, I’m scarred for life; way too many comments about Ron’s body.”

“I— Oh, Merlin, I made so many. Why did I make so many? I need to cleanse my spirit. Immediately.”

“Well, we need to leave this manor, first,” Hermione held out her arm. “Shall we?”  
  
“Ah, not yet, Pet. Cissy is very, paranoid, about anyone entering her lab without her approval. She has wards disallowing anyone from apparating in and out, unless, of course, you’d like to end up as mush.”  
  
“While no one could ever be mushier than you were a couple minutes ago, I would like to avoid that.”  
  
She shouldn’t keep bringing it up; she didn’t care to be continuously reminded that Bellatrix would never experience the same things she did. She just knew that Bella was expecting her to tease her because that was what they did and she didn’t want Bella thinking anything was wrong.

“I was not mushy, I do not get mushy. If I was mushy, it was completely fabricated and is not how I feel, at all.”

“I know, I know. It was just odd to see you acting all in love.”  
  
“That’s not how I act when I’m in love.”  
  
“You— you love someone?”

Bellatrix hadn’t ever mentioned anything like that. Could she be talking about her?

“No,” Bellatrix said flatly.

She started walking towards the door.

The instantaneous flash of hope disappeared. Of course, she wasn’t in love with her. Why would she be? What did Hermione have that she’d want? Absolutely nothing, that’s what. It’d never be her she loved.

She slowly followed after Bella. “Who?”

“What?”  
  
“Who did you love?”

“Why do you want to know?”  
  
Now that was the question, wasn’t it? She really didn’t. She couldn’t stand to look at this other woman and see all the ways that she fell short; that she’d never be her. She didn’t want to look down at a picture of a smiling woman who was perfect in every way that she was not. Her heart would rip into shreds if she had to stare into the eyes of the woman Bellatrix had given her heart to.

But some part of her needed to. Needed to see why Bellatrix didn’t love her. At least then she’d have an answer to why her love was unrequited and maybe that’d be enough. Maybe she’d be able to move on. She was tired of the pain. Something so beautiful shouldn’t be so painful. They were tied together; pain and love, she couldn’t have one without the other. It was all-consuming and she detested it.

But, part of her couldn’t move on. Couldn’t stop drinking the sweet poison that was loving Bellatrix. If she wasn’t filled with this, nothing would hold as much meaning. Bellatrix made her life complete; to lose that would be to jump off the cliff and into oblivion.

“I just, I suppose I’m curious. It’s a part of you and I want to know all of you.”

“Well that’s sweet, isn’t it?” Poison dripped from her lips.

“Seriously, Bella? It’s just a question.”  
  
“And it’s a subject I don’t,” she went to open the door, which did not open. “Want to,” she yanked it, but it still didn’t move. “Talk about it,” she tried a third time, but the door stayed stuck in place. “Damn it, Narcissa!” Bellatrix threw the glass vial and it shattered against the door.

“It’s locked?”  
  
“Obviously!” She yelled, her voice getting high in pitch.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s just a door, right. We’ll get it open and we can talk about something else,” she walked next to Bellatrix and placed a hand on the small of her back, intending to soothe her.

Bellatrix shoved her off. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry,” Hermione mumbled. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

She could ignore that, she could. She didn’t need to acknowledge how it made her throat dry or her heart bleed.  
  
“I’m not upset.”  
  
“Bella, you obviously are. We can talk about—”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it with you.”

Hermione leaned her head back and blinked away tears. It shouldn’t matter, some things you talked about with some people and not with others. But that was for hobbies; you saved them for the friends you shared that interest in, not for whatever this was.

When you were close to someone you confided in them. You trusted they’d help. That they wouldn’t judge. Did Bella think she wouldn’t care? That she wouldn’t understand?

She told Bella everything and she thought she did the same. She thought they were close enough for that; that there was no one they were closer to. Maybe that wasn’t true anymore, maybe it never had been. That didn’t mean Bella shouldn’t be comfortable confiding in her. Because she could, no matter what happened, she’d stand on the beach next to Bella and face every tidal wave.

“You can, if you want, I’m always here. No matter what.”

“You say that now, but in the end, you’ll leave. Things will be… too different and you won’t want to stay. I can’t lose you, Hermione; I couldn’t bear it.”  
  
“You won’t have to bear it, I’ll always be next to you.”  
  
“You won’t.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
“You don’t know that.”  
  
“You can’t scare me away, Bella. I’m here whether you want me or not. Nothing you do, nothing you think, or feel, could ever make me leave,” her voice was quiet and even, intending to calm.

“I’m not sure how to say it.”  
  
“Start with a small part, then. Whatever it is you are sure of.”

Bellatrix whirled around. Her eyes searched Hermione’s face, conflict charged within. She nodded her head once and sadness settled in her eyes. She stepped forwards and her lips desperately met Hermione’s.

Lightning raced through her body. There was nothing else; only them. Her eyes slipped closed and patterns of black and white danced across her eyelids. Her head spun frantically. Every hair on her body stood at attention. Flashes of heat danced down her spine, a stark contrast to the cold of Bella’s hand against her chin.

Bella’s lips tasted of salt and plants. Her skin smelled like a forest after it had just rained. It was pure ecstasy and she needed more. It wasn’t enough; it would never be enough. She had been wandering alone her whole life and this was coming home. She had never been so overwhelmed and yet it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Then Bella pulled away and everything was empty. Her eyelids fluttered open. Bellatrix’s forehead leaned against Hermione’s and they were so close their breaths mingled and floated off as one. Hermione’s chest rose up and down frantically; her heart racing.

Hermione stared into deep brown eyes which searched her face filled with wonder.

“You kissed me back?” Her voice was hoarse; barely louder than a whisper. She reached a finger up and wiped a tear off Hermione’s face.

“Of course I did.”  
  
“Why?”

“Because I love you, idiot.”

Bellatrix let out a shaky breath and sagged against Hermione. She wrapped her arms against Bellatrix and buried her head in her hair; inhaling the scent.

“Really?” She had never sounded so unsure.

“Really.”  
  
She was never going to let go.


End file.
